When the Craze Struck
"Brethren and sisters," said Dr. Jebb, in the Wednesday meeting
established for general discussion, "I consider it my duty to speak
openly and officially in condemnation of this outbreak of the fearful,
soul-destroying vice of gambling that is sweeping over the land, over
the country, over the town, I might almost say over this congregation.
Never, in all my experience, has this inclination run so riotously
insane. Not men of the world merely, but members of the Church; and the
women and little children who can barely lisp the shameful word, are
betting on the race."
The reverend doctor had much more to say in fierce denunciation, but
Hartigan, while regretting the sinfulness of the habit, pointed out that
this was a land of few pleasures and a land of horses; and if, as was
natural, they sought to get their pleasure out of their horses, then
surely Dr. Jebb would not consign them all to hell for it, but take a
view more in line with the Christian charity of the Church.
Deacon Higginbotham rose to expound his theory of risk. Every man who
took a risk of profit or loss was gambling; and everybody did it, so all
were gambling, every one. "Now, see, we have a fire insurance risk on
the this church, which means the church is gambling against Providence.
So, clearly, the gambling itself is not a sin, it is the accessories of
gambling that make for evil. For example, if we gamble with cards,
sitting up all night in a stuffy room, drinking bad drinks, smoking bad
smokes, speaking bad words, neglecting our business, neglecting our
morals, hurting our health--then these things are bad. But, if we gamble
out in the sunlight, on a beautiful prairie, on beautiful horses--now
please don't mistake me; I'm not betting on the race----"
Here Hannah pulled his coat tail and he sat down. The fact of the matter
was, he had issued a number of insurance policies on the race, and was
quite ready to issue any number more.
It was well known that Dr. Jebb had invested his little savings in
Deadwood town plots; and when Dr. Carson rose and asked if any one
present had ever risked money on a probable rise in town plots--gambled,
in fact, on the chances of a boom--Dr. Jebb turned scarlet and Dr.
Carson laughed outright. Whereupon the Rev. James Hartigan whispered to
the Rev. Dr. Jebb, who nodded; and the Reverend James, standing up,
said: "Let us close the meeting with prayer."
If the Church--with all its immunities, safeguards, antitoxins,
influences, warnings, prophylactics, creeds, vows, exposures,
denunciations, traditions, and holy leaders--should become infected with
aggressive interest in the speed contest to the extent of outward and
visible material risk, what was likely to be the condition of the
ungodly? It is said that the real estate boom of Minneapolis and the
gold craze of Deadwood were psychological trivialities compared with the
sudden great boom in betting that set in during the last week of June at
the Black Hills; and the only reason why the wagering cataclysm was less
disastrous than it threatened to be was because it ended quickly.
Fifty thousand dollars of treaty money was in the hands of Red Cloud and
his people; fifty thousand more went to the Cheyennes under Howling
Bull. The ranchmen were ready with an equal sum, and Fort Ryan was not
far behind. By noon the fifty thousand dollars had been distributed to
the Indians; by one o'clock every cent of it was put up on the race in
equal bets. Who was to be stake holder? How much was each stake to be
held or awarded? These were problems of some intricacy in view of the
fact that the Indians could not read a word or trust any white man
except the Indian Agent and Father Cyprian, the Jesuit missionary, both
of whom declined to have any hand or part in the matter.
The plan devised by Red Cloud and accepted by the whites was as follows:
every pair of stakes was tied together and marked with two names, the
white man's and the Indian's--the latter's mark or totem being used.
They then were piled up in a lone tepee, half way between the Fort and
the Indian camp, and the tepee put under guard of an Indian and a white
soldier. The understanding was that as soon as the race was over the
winners should take possession of the lodge and distribute the contents
among themselves, as indicated by the marks.
There was nearly one hundred thousand dollars in cash piled up in that
Indian lodge in twin bunches. Of course, it was easy to arrange the
money that way, and possible to make bundles of robes, bridles,
beadwork, buckskin, pemmican, and weapons. It was even practical to pair
off ploughs and bureaux; but the difficulties became huge and complex
when horse was wagered against horse, or cow against cow, and even more
so when cow was put up against horse; for, obviously, they could not be
laid away in pairs, pending the decision; so that an elaborate sort of
tally stick was instituted with some success, but even so a number of
disputes ensued.
There was not a trooper who did not wager all the cash he had or could
by any means get. There was not an officer who was not dragged in by the
growing power of the craze. And daily, parties of Indians came to the
Fort to put up cash, or peer around to get a glimpse of the horses. The
whites made no attempt this time to spy on the Indians--their last
experience had not been very encouraging. Anyway, why should they? They
had all the cards in their hands. The shoeing of the Buckskin, the known
importation of oats and timothy, the absence of reliable proof that the
Indians had any other horse, were conclusive on that side; and on their
own, the Rover could beat the Buckskin, even as Blazing Star could beat
Rover; so, allowing for an accident, they had two winning horses to
choose from.
John Higginbotham, who represented the bankers of the little wooden Bank
of Cedar Mountain, had to send to Deadwood for a fresh supply of
mortgage blanks, an assistant inspector of risks, and all the cash they
could spare for the present need. Colonel Waller began to take alarm.
The men were mortgaging their pay for months ahead, although many were
still in debt from the autumn before. One young officer whose pay was
pledged for a year in advance did not hesitate to pledge for the
following year, so sure was he.
As early as the middle of June, the long lines of mounted men with
prairie schooners were seen crawling over the plain to northward and
eastward, while down the mountain roads came Indian bands in
ever-growing numbers. The authorities might well have taken alarm but
for the fact that the gathering was to be at Fort Ryan where there were
ample troops to deal with any possible situation. Then over the hills
from the south came Red Cloud with all his clan, and many more besides.
Mounted men in hundreds, with travois and different kinds of carts,
carrying tepees, provisions, household goods, and with them--straggling
off or driven by the mounted boys--were herds of prairie ponies, in
scores or even hundreds, the Red men's real wealth, brought now to
stake, they fondly hoped, against the horses of the regiment at Fort
Ryan. On the old camp ground by the river below the Fort, the Indians
pitched their village, and every day came others of their race to set up
lodges, and add to the lively scene. On the other side was a growing
canvas town of whites with every kind of sharper and blackleg that the
surrounding settlements could contribute from their abundant shady
population.
Prominent among the visitors at Fort Ryan was the Indian Commissioner,
with the local agent as his assistant. He opened a temporary office in
the barracks, and the morning of his arrival many a lively scene took
place as gorgeously dressed bucks, with wives and interpreter, gathered
there to receive their treaty money. Although the Colonel was careful to
exclude all liquor dealers and known sharpers from the Fort during the
issue of the cash, he could not exclude them from the Dakota prairie,
and they were hanging about everywhere with their unholy wares and
methods. Firewater was, of course, the most dangerous snare; but a great
deal of trick robbery was carried on with gaudy knick-knacks for which
unbelievable prices were asked and got. The Indians might have parted
with all their cash on that morning but for the need they felt of having
it to cover their bets on the race.
Red Cloud and his counsellors had been many times to Colonel Waller's
house. They had come with money bets, they had come with promises, and
now they came with horses, eager to bet horse against horse for the
mounts of all the regiment. The Indian chief did not understand the
Colonel's refusal until he was told that a mythical Great High Chief
named Unca-Sam was the owner of the cavalry mounts--that though Unca-Sam
was over a hundred years old, he was a young man yet and knew all that
was done in the West. Then it slowly dawned on Red Cloud that these men
were riding horses that did not belong to them; he despised them for it,
but his Indian honesty made him see how impossible it was to bet the
horses that they did not own. However, he managed to stake a throng of
ponies against the cattle of the ranchers, and thus the wealth of one
side was staked against that of the other.
Next morning saw many wagons come to the Fort, with squaws beside their
Indian drivers. They stopped at the Colonel's house, the covers were
removed, and great piles of beadwork, coats, leggings, moccasins,
baskets, war-clubs, and other characteristic things of Indian work were
revealed. It was made clear that these were offered as stakes; would the
whites match up the goods? In a spirit of fun, at first, the women of
the Fort, as well as the men, began offering household goods or personal
gear; a frying pan against a baby-bag, a pair of corsets against a
medicine flute, a bureau against a war bonnet. Then, bitten by the
craze, they kept on till everything was matched and all the goods tied
up in bundles, according to the established custom, to lie in the big,
special tepee under guard.
Another band of Red men followed with some tepees that they offered
against government tents and, on being refused, finally wagered them
against provender and hay. Each day there were new offers as groups of
Indians came to the Fort, so that as soon as an Indian outfit on wheels
came slowly up, it was quite understood that it was bringing new
material to put up on the race. It was toward the end of the time that
Red Cloud and his retinue came again, riding in much solemnity. Ignoring
all others, he went to Colonel Waller's house and, in his usual
deliberate way, after smoking, he began:
"Maybe so, you bet big?"
"Yes, indeed," was Waller's answer.
"Good. We bet all Dakota. You bet United States. Maybe so--yes?"
"No, no," laughed the Colonel.
"You win, we go away out west. We win, you all go back east. Maybe
so--yes?"
"No," said the Colonel. "I am only a little chief. The Great High Chief,
Unca-Sam, would not allow it."
Red Cloud smoked a while, then resumed:
"Heap afraid, maybe so?" Then, after a pause, "We bet Pine Ridge, you
bet Fort Ryan--yes?"
Again the Colonel had to protest that only the Great Father Unca-Sam
could deal in such matters; and Red Cloud grunted, "Heap scared," made a
gesture of impatience, and rode away.